


Bunting

by Meadow Lion (Meadow_Lion)



Category: 4th Man Out (2015)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Gay Character, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, M/M, Post-Canon, Slash, Sports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:35:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28146207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meadow_Lion/pseuds/Meadow%20Lion
Summary: Bunt: When a batter holds the baseball bat out and tries to lightly tap the ball instead of taking a full swing at the ball. The batter might do this to advance another base runner.
Relationships: Adam (4th Man Out)/Chris (4th Man Out), Adam (4th Man Out)/Matt (4th Man Out), Adam (4th Man Out)/Scott Lombardi (4th Man Out), Chris (4th Man Out)/Rachel (4th Man Out)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 49
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	Bunting

**Author's Note:**

  * For [glitterpig](https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitterpig/gifts).



> I hope you enjoy, glitterpig!
> 
> Many thanks to my beta/co-conspirator. All mistakes are my own.

The clatter on Ortu's stairs has to be Adam -- he's the only one not already there -- but seeing Adam is what makes Chris actually smile.

Adam's smiling too, at all of them, when he says, "His name is Matt."

Chris' eyebrows scrunch. Not the greeting he expected.

"Ooh," Nick says, "Who's Matt?"

Ortu clasps his hands and bats his eyelashes like a cartoon jackass. "Yeah, do tell."

"The guy I had the moment with, who has the kayaks!" Adam says as if it's obvious.

Which, okay, considering Chris was trying to get the guy back to Adam's garage, it kind of should've been obvious to him. He still acts surprised. "Oh, you saw him again?"

"Yeah, he came back to the shop because some jerk --" Adam squints at Chris. "Why is your mouth doing that?"

"Doing what?" Chris is trying to keep his lips straight. It'd be great, if they'd cooperate.

Crossing his arms, Adam puts on a stern expression. "Did you . . . ? You didn't, did you? Shit, you did."

"Chris did what?" Ortu asks. He and Nick are watching the exchange like it's the NFL draft and the Bills have first pick.

Chris sets his jaw. "Chris doesn't know what you're talking about."

Adam glares for another second before cracking into a grin. He leans in close to grip Chris' shoulder briefly. "I love you, man."

Nick and Ortu start prying out details about the meeting and an upcoming date Adam made with Matt. Adam is so bright with excitement, Chris has trouble looking at him.

Sinking back into the couch, Chris plasters on the Listening Face he usually only uses with Jess. He absolutely can’t wait to hear more about this Matt guy and all his plans for Adam. 

~*~*~

Falling into a fuckbuddy rhythm like he did with Jess isn't what Chris wants again. He figures, with Rachel, "Maybe we should wait a little while."

She grins at him, her face still close to his and her arms around his waist. "Well, I wasn't planning on fucking you in your car in Duffy's parking lot."

Chris laughs awkwardly. "Right, of course not, I didn't -- I meant like we could . . . not . . . have sex at all yet. Stick to making out for now."

"Oh." She leans back into her own seat. He can feel her looking at him but can't see her expression in the mostly-dark. "Should I be worried about this?"

"No," he says emphatically. "I just want to get to know you better, Tracy, I mean, Rachel."

She snorts at the joke. "You do have a lot to learn."

Spreading his arms, he offers, "Lay it on me, teach."

Her mouth smooths over his again. And he thinks, again, how nice it feels. How he already knows exactly what to expect from her soft lips and the way her fanny pack presses into his hip.

~*~*~

The guys are scarfing down lunch at Fiorello. Midway through a bite, Adam stops eating. He sits there, mouth full, staring at his sandwich.

Chris nudges him. "Did you get a piece of cellophane in there or something?"

"What?" Adam meets his gaze. He finishes chewing his bite then shakes his head. "No, I was just thinking, I eat a lot of meat."

Choking on his own bite, Chris covers his mouth, while Ortu and Nick laugh themselves silly.

Adam rolls his eyes. "You guys know Matt's really into saving the planet and conservation and stuff. And he's been vegan since he was in college. He got me thinking about how much meat I eat."

"Wow, a vegan, how gay can you get?" Ortu jokes.

"I think you're thinking of vag-itarians," Nick retorts. "Being a vegan does have a lot of benefits for the human body and the environment, though."

"Yeah, well," Chris says, "a dude who doesn't want to get his mouth around some meat may not be right for my man Adam."

"Your man, huh?" Adam says, a glint in his eye that Chris can't decipher.

Chris shrugs it off. "You're my best friend. I gotta look out for you."

Adam makes a noncommittal noise. He stares at his sandwich again and starts to put it down on his plate.

"Hey." Lowering his voice, Chris asks, "Matt isn't making you feel bad about what you're eating, is he? 'Cause that's not cool."

"No. I mean, I don't think he's doing it on purpose. I can tell he wishes I'd switch it up, though."

The puppydog eyes Adam has right now are _killing_ Chris. He sets down his own sandwich, wipes one hand, and slings his arm around so he can cup the back of Adam's neck. He waits for Adam to look at him again, then says, "If he's judging you or acting like you're supposed to change for him, screw that. Screw him."

A muscle under his palm slackens and tightens again, as Adam tilts his head then glances away quickly. "We haven’t actually got to that part yet. Not totally."

Suddenly, all Chris can think about is what Adam isn’t doing with Matt. _Yet._ Except it’s not Matt he pictures with Adam. _Well -- he hasn’t met Matt; that’s why the guy he sees with Matt is hazy. Right._ His hand flexes, and without conscious thought, his thumb and forefinger slide up into Adam's hair, soft edges tickling his fingertips. Something goes through Adam, a shiver like a wave that washes over Chris.

He pulls away, reaches for his sandwich again and holds it in front of himself while he eats. He can't see Adam's face now. He does see Ortu and Nick exchange some smirky look.

"Hey, how're things with Rachel?" Nick asks. "All screwing all the time?"

Chris throws him a middle finger and keeps eating.

~*~*~

When Adam finally admits that he doesn't feel good enough for Matt, Chris puts his foot down. "That's bullshit, and you know it."

Adam starts, "He --"

"No, I don't care if he only ever farts rainbows. _You_ deserve better than feeling like this." He clutches Adam's shoulders. Their foreheads nearly touch.

Adam's features shift into a landscape Chris doesn't recognize. He's staring too closely, trying to figure it out, and can't help tracking the swipe Adam's tongue makes across his lips before Adam says, "Chris. You keep acting like I'm such a great catch--"

"Yep. I'm smart like that." Chris pats Adam's shoulders and steps back. "What about Scott Lombardi?"

"Scott Lombardi?" Adam repeats.

"You said you and he had a thing in high school, and I heard he's back in town. Maybe you should give him a call."

"I haven't even broken up with Matt yet," Adam says, half-laughing.

"But you're going to." Chris doesn't ask it.

Adam sighs and shakes his head while saying, "Yes."

~*~*~

The Adam/Scott, Chris/Rachel double-date is going better than the one with Jess and Marc did.

But not by a lot.

Setting the bar at _No one has left in a huff_ , it's great. Scott seems great. Rachel is obviously great. Adam is always great.

Next to Rachel, across the table from Adam, Chris has the perfect view every time Scott touches Adam, every time Scott makes Adam laugh. Every time, Chris wants to punch something.

He finally escapes to the bathroom. Here he can at least grind his knuckles against the cinderblock while muttering under his breath, "Great, just fucking great."

He's trying to make his smile look sincere and friendly in the mirror when Scott opens the door and announces, "Hey, buddy. We just got served our mains."

Chris feels like his whole body, let alone his face, has gone blank. "Thanks. I’m almost done here."

Scott shrugs and starts washing his hands. "No worries. I was coming in here anyway. Clean hands, clean body, you know?"

_What the fuck?_

"Absolutely," Chris says.

Despite himself, he counts as Scott washes: exactly thirty seconds. _Jesus. No engine grease allowed under those fingernails anymore._ He wonders if Scott even lets Adam touch him without some kind of detox now. Chris has spent a fair amount of time looking at Adam’s hands, and he knows how the motor oil has worked its way into the grooves and creases around his knuckles, the lines that cross his palms. How the smell lingers long after Adam tries to shower it all off.

That probably doesn’t mean good things for the longevity of this relationship. It’s too bad, really. But Adam needs someone who will get dirty with him.

As he leaves the bathroom, Chris looks back in the mirror. His smile is just right.

~*~*~

"Dude, are you coming to Duffy's tonight or not?" Ortu sounds pissy on the phone.

The last time that happened, it had been a while since Chris had seen the guys. He abruptly realizes it's been about that long again, or close to it. "Sure, probably. Is everybody else going to make it? Adam's coming?"

Nick yells from somewhere on Ortu's end, "Yes, douchebag, I'll be there, thanks for asking."

Chris huffs, "Okay, sorry --"

"You realize you never hang with us anymore without Adam, right?" Ortu interjects.

"Or _with_ both Adam and Scott," Nick yells.

"Come on, that's not true." 

"It fucking is." Nick must be leaning right over the phone now.

Chris scrubs his free hand through his hair. Putting more effort into it, he says again, "I'm sorry. I'll be there."

"Good," Ortu says. "Adam's going to be on a date with Scott."

Hanging up, Chris groans.

Maybe twenty minutes after he gets to the bar, though, Chris feels a hand on his back. He's leaning into the touch before Adam has even come around to his side.

Adam waves at Nick and Ortu with his left hand, the right slipping low along Chris' spine before falling away. Adam leans close to speak right into his ear and send vibrations through him with a simple, "Hey."

Chris swallows his mouthful of beer. He does not swallow his tongue. Glancing around and seeing only Adam, he replies, "Hey. No Scott?"

"Not anymore." Adam shrugs, like, that's that. "No Rachel?"

Chris echoes his shrug and his "Not anymore. We just realized that it wasn’t right, you know."

That’s pretty much what happened, anyway. He's not getting into how he totally choked when Rachel flat-out asked if they were ever going to have sex. She gave him a weird, knowing look and said that it was time for them to see other people.

Adam seems to be waiting for something else.

Biting his lip, Chris holds Adam's gaze _(one Mississippi, two Mississippi)_ and adds, "I felt like I was kissing my sister."

"Well, if it’s not right, it’s not right," Adam says, a grin quirking his mouth.

"Right. And then sometimes it is."

"Right.

~*~*~

This time, Nick calls him. "Hey, so, you know that the lake is frozen, right?"

Chris scoffs. "Not this again."

"Oh, yes, my man. It’s time for the shinny Winter Classic!”

Every year, when the lake freezes, a bunch of them pull their skates and the gear they’ve had since they played midget out of storage and pretend that they’re not falling all over themselves. The whole lot of them looks like idiots, except Adam, who actually plays in a rec league year-round. 

"Didn’t that guy break his arm last year?" Chris asks doubtfully.

"Barely a sprain. So, Saturday morning, ten o'clock. Park in the beach lot and bring a shovel to clear the ice."

It's freaking cold when Chris gets up on Saturday morning. Cold and clear. Good weather for shinny, he thinks, looking longingly back at his bed as he pulls on his long johns. Better weather for sleeping in and maybe watching a movie in bed. By himself. Maybe.

He tells himself to shut up and drives to the lake. He's still kinda cranky when he gets there. He takes a minute before he gets out of the car. Adam will be here, and Chris will be watching him stick-handle. 

_Thank God, winter clothes are thick._

__

__

When he finally gets out of the car and heads down to the lake, Adam is the only one there. 

"Hey!" Adam skates, smiling, to the edge of the makeshift rink. "I was worried it'd just be me."

"Uh." Chris stares at the lake. A section of the lake about twenty feet from shoreline has been perfectly cleared, and there're nets set up at either end. "Did you do all this?"

Adam laughs. "No. I think maybe the hockey gods are smiling on us."

"There's no such thing as the hockey gods," Chris says patiently. This is an old fight, one that flares and dies as the season goes on. It got particularly ugly when they ended up with Eichel instead of McJesus.

Adam turns on an edge and gestures to the rink. Laughing again, he says, "Behold evidence of the power of belief in the hockey gods."

It’s too early for this, and especially too early for what that smile is doing to Chris. He tries to save himself by changing the subject. "Where are the guys?"

Adam shrugs. "Ortu texted me, said he has a work thing that just came up."

"Uh-huh." Chris pulls out his phone. There’s a text from Nick. He opens it, and suddenly his phone is -- _Jesus. Is that_ \--

"'It's Raining Men'?" Adam scrunches up his mouth. "Subtle."

Chris can't look up from his phone. The video is a montage of men kissing, with Gloria Gaynor wailing away in the background. 

"Hey." Adam takes his phone away from him. "Suit up."

Chris does as he's told. How can he not, with the way Adam is smiling at him? And, yeah, this is good. He's maybe going to give Nick and Ortu a beatdown the next time they show their faces, the fucking yentas, but, in the meantime, he’s more than up for a little one-on-one with Adam.

It's mostly keep-away, with only two of them. Chris is in the groove, and he's playing a pretty physical game, which Adam takes his lead on, and they're checking each other all over the ice, laughing and shoving, not really even trying to score. 

The crack under Chris is sharp, winter breaking a bone, and his skate is getting wet before Chris even looks down.

"Shit, Chris!" yells Adam.

Chris throws out both arms, one to catch himself on the way down and one to wave off Adam. "Stay there! You get too close, it could pull you under too."

But of course Adam doesn't listen. His skates whoosh and zag and he doesn't even stop, just snags Chris by the arm and yanks him skidding along the ice on his butt. When they get to solid ground, Adam is still holding on with a deathgrip.

Chris swings up his other arm to pat Adam's gloved hand. His breath is somewhere back there on the ice, not anywhere he can use it for actual words.

Adam collapses in a panting heap on the bank next to him. At least at this angle he won't pull Chris' arm out of its socket.

"What," Chris finally manages. Flopping onto his back and shucking his helmet, he sucks in a lungful of the frigid air and immediately begins shaking. His chattering teeth break up the sentence even more. "The hell. Were. You. Thinking?!"

Whatever Chris expected, it isn't what he gets: Adam's laughter, loud and breathless and fucking beautiful.

Chris stares upward, thinking maybe he hit his head without realizing it.

Finally releasing Chris' arm, Adam leans over, chest heaving with the last gasps of laughter, and stares right down at him. "You're welcome."

At that Chris giggles helplessly. The more he looks at Adam's face, though -- backlit by dim winter sunlight but so jubilant -- the faster he sobers. Fumbling off his gloves, he reaches up to push off Adam's helmet and wrap his hands around Adam's cold, stubbly cheeks.

Adam blinks then freezes. _Not literally, thank fuck._

"Thank you." Chris pulls, shaking him a little. "But you shouldn't have done that."

Adam closes his eyes. "You know by now. I'm really bad at letting you go."

Chris drops his hands, only so he can lever himself upright. The air, or something, is still caught in his chest. He works his throat and touches his fingertip to Adam's mouth.

Adam's eyes fly open. His voice sounds the way Chris feels, like trying to keep a lid on a big jar of hope. "We tried this already."

"Did we really, though?" Chris asks. He was never convinced by the ‘brother’ thing but wasn't going to push either.

"Hmm. Maybe we just didn’t do it right the first time." Adam leans closer, rubs his nose against Chris'.

"Never hurts to try again," Chris agrees.

Adam sinks down like he expects Chris to change his mind or just vanish. The brush of his mouth is light and cool, a first snowflake Chris wants to catch on his tongue. So he does, licking over the seam of Adam's lips. Adam sighs and drops all his weight onto Chris.

Chris' breath is gone again, in a shock of heat this time. Adam squirms and tucks his arms between Chris' head and the snowy bank. Surrounding Chris. They kiss slowly, Chris tasting the inside of Adam's mouth, Adam rolling Chris' lower lip between his teeth. Adam nuzzles behind Chris' ear to suck at the skin there.

Chris jerks in surprise and moans. "Fuck. Keep doing that."

"Wanted to do it for so long," Adam mumbles, flicking his tongue at the spot and sucking again, harder.

"Just that spot, huh?" Chris pants.

Adam snorts and drops his head against Chris' shoulder, then rolls his torso off Chris. "Yep, just that. Done now."

Their padded legs are still tangled, and Chris bucks his knee under Adam's. "Better not be."

Adam just grins at him.

Chris has only the vaguest idea what to expect next or how it'll feel. But he knows it's Adam.

~ end ~ 


End file.
